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Poor gosling. It hurts to be lost. And worse to be home with no kind of homecoming...I'll be lucky if I can do as well as you when all this's done, just a bit out of breath, a bit bruised and scratched, a bit wiser and sadder for it all.

Shannon Hale

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Shannon Hale
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: January 26
Author
Fantasy Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Salt Lake City
Utah
Kind
Bits
Homecoming
Hurt
Bruised
Poor
Hurts
Lost
Wiser
Home
Breath
Wells
Breaths
Gosling
Well
Worse
Scratched
Done
Lucky
Sadder

More quotes by Shannon Hale

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I always knew it was ill-fated, but he truly believed I would be his bride. I guess I'd never realized that before. He had taken my mucker hand and looked at my mottled face and believed we would wed. And he hadn't seemed sorry. In fact, he'd swooped me up in a corridor and kissed me. That set me to crying.
Shannon Hale
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His brothers could tease him about his height or the number of scars he was collecting on his body. He could take the joke when they said he would die having never won a fair wrestling match. But the topic of Bettin still smarted too much. He'd imagined being with her always. Now when he closed his eyes, he had trouble imagining anything else.
Shannon Hale
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I cannot write to anyone outside myself--if I tried, it would be a horrible story, flat and lifeless. I write to myself. That's the only person I'm trying to please.
Shannon Hale
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...all things speak, in their way, don't they?
Shannon Hale
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I’ve always believed that as an author, I do 50% of the work of storytelling, and the reader does the other 50%. There’s no way I can control the story you tell yourself from my book. Your own experiences, preferences, prejudices, mood at the moment, current events in your life, needs and wants influence how you read my every word.
Shannon Hale
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He had a dashing smile. It nearly dashed right off his face.
Shannon Hale
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She put a wedge beside my heart And then she brought the mallet down She sang no song to guide her work I lost my heart without a sound
Shannon Hale
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Her nightmare clung to her like the smell of smoke to cloth.
Shannon Hale
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Smell is the voice of the soul.
Shannon Hale
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You've been quiet lately...but it's not so much the quiet as something inside the quiet.
Shannon Hale
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The snow was too light to stay, the ground too warm to keep it. And the strange spring snow fell only in that golden moment of dawn, the turning of the page between night and day.
Shannon Hale
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You can be who you will,” he repeated. His voice softened. “And if you will have me, I will be the one beside you.
Shannon Hale
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Will you accompany me in this dance?” he said, bowing and holding out his hand. “No, thank you.” Miri smiled. The prince frowned and looked and the chief delegate as if for assistance. Miri laughed self consciously. “I, uh, I was teasing.
Shannon Hale
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I can see that one can never pay back Gilsa for the fear that she will give again.
Shannon Hale
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Your head will be fine,” said Miri. “It’s your neck you should worry about.
Shannon Hale
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It was karma, it was kismet, it was magic. It doesn't matter how it happened, just that it did.
Shannon Hale
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...Speaking of, I've been playing with the letters - Lovers In a Very Enlightened Regard. LIVER. Good one. Also, how about Life Invasion Via Exceptional Respect? Life Invasion. Like it. Or Lovelike Intensity Via Emotional Rapport. Doesn't that spell OLIVER?
Shannon Hale
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Enna leaned back her head and laughed at the sky. 'Of course he wasn't! Who could kill Razo?
Shannon Hale
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Razo hopped back up and adopted a posture that said he was completely unruffled, never had been, and in fact was ready to do something manly like lift boulders or swallow live worms.
Shannon Hale
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. . . as long as there are movement and harmony, there are words.
Shannon Hale